


You Don't Cross That Line

by Rick_KTish



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Averted Self-Harm, But It's All Hopeless Anyway, Depression, I'm Sorry, No Names Named, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, POV Second Person, Psychological Something, Still Expecting to Lose the War, Won the battle, not a happy fic, old fic, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 13:47:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11381436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rick_KTish/pseuds/Rick_KTish
Summary: The hero has fallen; it's just that nobody knows yet.Written with Percy in mind while battling my own depression, but it can apply to any of the heroes if you want. Sorry for the sadness.





	You Don't Cross That Line

You stare in the mirror, wondering what it’s all for.

It’s useless. 

It’s meaningless.

They praise a hero, pray to the gods for more- but they don’t care.

They never care.

They never care about the hero as a person- a person who feels, who longs, who wishes desperately to cry, sometimes even to die-

but all they can see is strength, because that’s all you let them see.

If you have anything to say about it, it’s all they ever will.

But you stare back at your own desperate eyes, trying desperately to stay together, and you know- you  know , in your heart of hearts, that it’s not working.

You stare down the dark pits beneath your eyes as if they have their own and will retaliate- but of course they don’t (but then why are they still staring you down just as hard?)- and you know that you’re falling apart, that you’re tearing at the seams, that you can’t and won’t last much longer-

But then you think about them all, standing outside waiting for you, wishing you would hurry up and come out so they can shower you with well-intended praise and tear you down some more. 

You know they don’t mean to.

You know they’re just trying to help, to show how much they appreciate everything you’ve done, but it’s  _ killing you slowly  _

_ and  _

_ they  _

_ can’t  _

_ even  _

_ see  _

_ it. _

At first it calms you a little bit, but then you get  _ angry _ , which is never a good thing, because when you’re  _ angry _ , you don’t  _ think- _

and then before you know it you’re on the ground and there’s something sharp in your hand and you’re not even sure what it is or where it came from and your hand is shaking, holding it over just a finger-  _ just a little finger, no real harm, nothing wrong with it, just a little cut, just a tiny slice to release this pent up angryangryangryANGRYHATEHATEHATEHATEHATE- _

and then you freeze.

You can’t go down this path.

You know you can’t take this tiny step, this little hop into that world, because 

_ You _

_ Know _

_ You _

_ Won’t  _

_ Come _

_ Back _ ...

You put the sharp thing, whatever it was, down and sit there, shaking.

You’re not sure if you’re crying or just frozen, but you stay there, thinking about what you almost did, that barrier you almost broke, and what would have happened if you hadn’t stopped yourself.

It’s not until at least an hour has gone by that you stand up and brush yourself off, check the mirror again- 

You don’t look like you’ve been crying, which is good, but the bruises under your eyes are staring at you again, so you look away quickly.

You change into fresh clothes, not wanting people to wonder what wrinkled the others.

You finally venture out into the sunlight, mask firmly in place once more.

They don’t see anything off about you, don’t notice the bags that have been winning your staring contests recently, and just the way you would have it.

You didn’t go there today, so it’s another battle won.

It’s a war you know you’ll eventually lose, but each day, every battle, makes you feel a little bit stronger than the looming end, even as your strength is fading and you’re running on prayers and miracles now instead of fumes-

and for now, you feel safe in that knowledge.

You know that today, at least, you stayed on the right side of the barrier.

You know more certainly that if you don’t do so tomorrow, you’ll never  _ stop _ making those  _ tiny, little, doesn’t really matter, just to release a little bit _ cuts, and that you can’t hold out forever, but for now,

_ You don’t cross that line. _

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this when I was like twelve, because pushing my problems into other people's characters and using them to describe what's going on in my brain makes me feel better about my life and self. First thing posted on this site, because I'm just going to go ahead and move everything from Ff.n over here and post everything on both sites from now on.  
> Pls tell me what you think


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